


stop the world (i wanna get off with u)

by transharry (fortyfiveangrycats)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry Potter, M/M, Room of Requirement, Top Draco Malfoy, good post, honestly its not too rough tho, i only read top draco fics therefore i only write top draco fics, theres side romione for like 2 seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortyfiveangrycats/pseuds/transharry
Summary: Harry sighs. He’s happy for his friends, most certainly, but he can’t help but be a bit frustrated at the fact that it seems like everyone is hooking up these days. He thinks to himself that maybe it’s just because his current crush is a guy that it’s so difficult to make any sort of move, but then he remembers that:a) Upon Ron sharing his “oh yeah I got a hickey from Hermione” story to Seamus and Dean, of course Seamus had to flash his very own, stating that “yeah, Dean’s pretty good at giving hickeys, probably from all that practice on your sister,” which of course, led Ron to smack him upside the head with a pillow from the common room couch.b) Harry fancied none other than Draco Malfoy. The douchiest of douches. Yet for some agonizing reason, there’s always some sort of unresolved tension between Draco and himself. And not in the fighting way— for example, how after finishing a snarky comment directed towards Harry, Draco would bite his lip in that goddamn way he does. Fuck him (in Harry’s mind, hopefully that will be in the literal sense soon enough).





	stop the world (i wanna get off with u)

**Author's Note:**

> this is both my first draco/harry fanfic & my first explicit rated fic, so i apologize in advance if anything is a bit off! i tried to characterize harry & draco as best as i could, but, y'know, improvement can always occur, whether in this fic or the next.
> 
> this would take place in "eighth" year, i guess (i hate that i didn't really put thought to it). honestly, i just wanted to write banter that ended up in the two of them having sex somewhere. spunky.
> 
> well, i hope you like this— i hope to god none of my irl friends stumble upon this. im a little embarrassed,, im not really used to writing Flat Out Porn™ without burning up, but, i guess there's a first time for everything. why did i even put notes here, i'm just embarrassing myself more thinkin about my favorite characters having sex in the room of requirement. what the fuck
> 
> also. arctic monkeys. fuckin love that band

Walking to the Great Hall for supper, Harry fiddles with the hem of his shirt. Hermione and Ron are a few paces in front of him, hand-in-hand, and Harry’s heard the story Ron’s telling about four times already today (once to Harry himself, then to Seamus and Dean, Fred and George, and Ginny, who all asked him “Ron, is that a hickey?”). Of course, it was very blatantly obvious by Ron’s toothy grin and messy hair that  _ yes _ , it  _ was _ a hickey, and even more importantly— this was a hickey given by none other than Hermione. 

 

Harry sighs. He’s happy for his friends, most certainly, but he can’t help but be a bit frustrated at the fact that it seems like  _ everyone _ is hooking up these days. He thinks to himself that maybe it’s just because his current crush is a guy that it’s so difficult to make any sort of move, but then he remembers that:

 

  1. Upon Ron sharing his “oh yeah I got a hickey from Hermione” story to Seamus and Dean, of course Seamus had to flash his very own, stating that “yeah, Dean’s pretty good at giving hickeys, probably from all that practice on your sister,” which of course, led Ron to smack him upside the head with a pillow from the common room couch.
  2. Harry fancied none other than Draco Malfoy. The douchiest of douches. Yet for some agonizing reason, there’s always some sort of unresolved tension between Draco and himself. And _not_ in the fighting way— for example, how after finishing a snarky comment directed towards Harry, Draco would bite his lip in that _goddamn way he does_. Fuck him (in Harry’s mind, hopefully that will be in the literal sense soon enough). 



 

“Harry? You alright?” Ron asks, peering back at Harry, most obviously lost in thought. Hermione cranes her head around to glance at Harry as well, her curly hair bouncing against her shoulders. 

 

“‘M fine,” Harry responds, “just thinking.” Yeah, about Draco Malfoy, that  _ fucker _ . 

 

He looks at Ron as they sit down at the Gryffindor table, and blatantly asks, “why am I suddenly horny?” in which Ron looks at him like he’s lost and Hermione just shakes her head.

 

“Harry, it’s called hormones,” Hermione says matter-of-factly. “There are things you can  _ do _ about your current situation, you know.”

 

Harry finds himself sighing again. “Okay, I can’t just have sex right here and now, though.”

 

Ron puts his hands out to his sides as if to say “well of  _ course _ not, you idiot,” and Harry unenthusiastically nods in response. Of course Jerking Off Is Great And All but it’s not going to help this time around. Shit. 

 

_ Shit. _

 

Draco, sitting at his own table for supper, holds a book in one hand and his spoon in the other, taking bites of mashed potatoes as he turns pages. He glances quickly at the Gryffindor table, more specifically, he glances right at Harry, his lips curving into the slightest smirk. Harry’s mind immediately races with his natural Malfoy Translating Radar™ that is programmed into him, wondering if the smirk meant “hah, Potter, everyone knows you’re horny now,” or if it meant “yeah, you can have sex right here and now with  _ me _ ,” which begins to drive him crazy. 

 

For five minutes, Harry stares down at his plate, before ultimately declaring, “fuck it, I’ll be back soon,” and leaving a puzzled Ron and concerned Hermione as he walked towards the Slytherin table. He can hear Ron mutter “oh, God,” as Harry nears Draco, and considering that his very best friends knew not of his massive crush on the blithering idiot, they had every right to be worried for the outcome of this encounter— in fact, Harry himself was terrified of how this would go.

 

“Potter,” Draco says blandly, not even looking up from his book (who is he,  _ Hermione _ ?). Harry scoffs, sitting down at the table, and slouches his shoulders in frustration as Draco promptly shifts down the bench of the table. 

 

Harry’s about to open his mouth when Draco cuts him off with a nice old  “Just because I acknowledge you, Potter, it doesn’t mean you can invite yourself into the Slytherin table, much less sit next to  _ me _ .”

 

“Wow, okay then,” Harry says, doing his best to look extremely offended. “You’re not even going to listen to my proposition, then, I guess.”

 

“No, I’m not, because it’s probably an idiotic idea, considering those are all you ever seem to come up with,” Draco responds, looking up from his book with a flat expression. “I’m just trying to finish this chapter, Potter, Merlin’s beard.”

 

Harry shrugs. “Okay, fine, finish your chapter, but I was really hoping that I could fuel your ego a bit, y’know, since you  _ definitely _ need that.”

 

Draco tilts his head to the side like _ oh, hooray, another thing coming out of Potter’s mouth, _ and says “Fine, since you’re already blabbering endlessly, at least put some of it to use and shower me in compliments, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

 

“Not exactly,” Harry shifts along the bench. “Y’know, it didn’t really work out with Ginny and I— we’re not cut out to be in a romantic relationship, I guess.” Draco rolls his eyes, and Harry sputters, trying to keep his attention. “What I was getting to, though, was that I haven’t had sex for roughly six months.”

 

Draco chuckles and looks at Harry like he’s about to say something to embarrass him in front of the Slytherins, but he just says, “Potter, what the  _ fuck _ are you getting at?”

 

“I was wonderin’ if you’d like to.” He itches the back of his head nervously. “Malfoy, can you help me out here, like even just a little bit?”

 

Harry watches everything fall into place in Draco’s head as his eyes go wide. “Didn’t realize I was your type, Potter.”

 

“You’re  _ not _ ,” Harry lies, “But you’re attractive, so you’ve got that going for you.”

 

Draco smirks. “You’re totally into me.”

 

“No,” Harry argues (however, that’s the only thing he can manage to say).

 

“Why couldn’t you ask one of your friends? You know, like Weasley, or Longbottom— never mind on Longbottom, I really wouldn’t want to know how long his bottom  _ truly _ is— or Dean Thomas, right?” Draco looks back at his book and flips a page.

 

“Well, for one,” Harry starts, “the majority of my friends are straight, or at least I think they are. And Dean’s got a boyfriend. Trust me, I would’ve gone to him first if he weren’t taken. But everyone knows that you’re Slytherin’s favorite bisexual, so I just figured I’d ask you.”

 

Draco sighs. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Harry asks, slightly (very) shocked.

 

“ _ Yes,  _ Potter, as I mentioned previously.” Draco crosses his arms. “If you need it said more clearly, then here— I'll have sex with you, how's that?”

 

Harry nods vigorously, still completely baffled, as Draco asks if they can meet in the Room of Requirement at sometime around seven-thirty. Harry continues to nod in awe as Draco shoos him back to the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione intently watching him return. 

 

Ron leans forward onto his elbows, his eyebrows furrowed in concern as Harry sits back down. “What the bloody  _ hell  _ did you just do, Harry?” 

 

“Dunno,” Harry replies. “Probably gonna have sex with fuckin’ Malfoy tonight, though.”

 

Ron’s and Hermione’s eyes go wide. Harry just closes his. He doesn't want to talk about anything— no, he just wants it to be seven-thirty already so he can be absolutely  _ ruined  _ by his crush. Oh yeah— there’s absolutely no way in hell that Harry would be topping this time around. 

 

(Harry laughs to himself at the fact that he— for a split second— thought that there might be a chance for another opportunity like this one. Which definitely would not happen. Not after all the trouble it was getting Draco’s attention today, that’s for certain.)

 

When seven-thirty finally rolls around, Harry can barely fathom that this is an actual event that is happening in reality at this very moment. Then again, it's not every day that you make a proposition to your crush to have sex with them. It's even more odd when they accept your proposal, and you agree to meet in the Room of Requirement. Yet here Harry is, trembling with nervousness and excitement at the thought of Draco’s touch, standing at the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Harry seriously hopes that Draco didn’t decide to use this as another opportunity to embarrass him and bring Crabbe and Goyle along, or something like that.

 

Tears of joy nearly leave Harry’s eyes when he enters the Room of Requirement. The Room has made itself a quiet space for Draco and Harry, with an arrangement of couches and beds and anything needed for comfort. Draco is lounging on a white couch, his shoes neatly placed at the foot of the couch. Harry feels his heart flip and puts a palm to his face to hide how stupid he must look.

 

“...Hi,” Harry mumbles, and Draco rolls his eyes.

 

“Oh, shut up,” says Draco, reaching out and yanking Harry’s tie, pulling Harry against his chest. Harry's heart momentarily stops, then begins beating incredibly quickly as he realizes the close proximity between himself and Draco (get used to it, Harry, you’re literally going to be having sex). Harry closes the gap between them, pressing their lips together, and Harry shudders because  _ fuck, he’s kissing Draco,  _ which is a beautiful, beautiful thing. 

 

And even worse (so, so, much better, but Harry’s melting inside) is that Draco’s so fucking good at kissing. The little tugs at Harry’s messy black hair, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, all whilst kissing Harry with his perfectly smooth lips. As soon as Harry lets out the tiniest of moans, Draco parts the kiss, instead kissing down Harry’s neck, earning ragged breaths of approval. Draco pulls Harry’s shirt off, then peels off his own, discarding both of the shirts off to the side.

 

“Fuck, Malfoy,” Harry hisses, as Draco’s teeth graze against his collarbone. 

 

“Ah, you can’t do that,” Draco pauses, making eye contact with Harry. “You can’t just be on a last-name basis with me when we’re fucking.”

 

Harry grins, running his hands down Draco’s sides. “Is it me, or are you just generally into that?”  _ Fuck,  _ Harry thinks to himself,  _ I really hope I’m the reason he made that comment. _

 

“Oh, it’s definitely just you,” Draco answers before leaving a trail of messy kisses down Harry’s chest, rendering him Most Excellently Gay For Draco (as if he weren't already). 

 

Harry gasps when Draco pulls the zipper of Harry’s pants down, involuntarily jerking his hips against the blonde. Harry assists him, pulling down his pants and his boxers, Draco laughing to himself (definitely,  _ definitely _ about how hopelessly hard Harry is at that moment). Without any sort of contact at all, Harry nearly loses it just from watching Draco  _ lick his fucking lips  _ whilst looking right at Harry’s cock. 

 

He thinks  _ that  _ drove him crazy, but as soon as Draco’s lips make contact with his tip, he moans and rolls his hips. Draco has a bit of fun teasing Harry, just using the tip of his tongue to ruin Harry, licking up the length of him and as if he’s done it a million times, takes Harry in all at once.

 

“ _ Draco _ ,” Harry groans, and he can feel Draco moan against his cock. Draco slides his palms to touch along Harry’s thighs, working miracles with his mouth.

 

“Ah, stop,” Harry says, and Draco ceases working his mouth on Harry. “I’m too close. Would rather… Would rather come together with you.”

 

Draco smirks, and finishes undressing himself, taking off his own pants and boxers, and Harry nearly cries from how absolutely gorgeous he is. His legs are curvy and smooth (Harry wonders if Draco may have actually shaved his legs for this occasion and falls even further in love with him), his ass is  _ wonderful _ , the few freckles along his shoulders are cute and add more layers to Draco in some way. Even better, Draco’s looking at Harry the same way— his gaze crossing over Harry’s hips and legs and chest and  _ everything,  _ and Harry dubs this moment as The Most Blessed Moment of His Entire Fucking Life. 

 

Draco fumbles around in the pockets of his pants that he’d just tossed aside, pulling out a small bottle of lube and a condom. 

 

“You brought a condom?” Harry asks, for some goddamn reason.

 

Draco looks at him like he’s stupid (honestly, he deserves it right now). “Yes, Harry, I’m not a fucking  _ animal,  _ of course I brought a condom.” Harry shudders as Draco says his name. Maybe that effect works on both of them.

 

He pours a small amount of lube onto his hand, and Harry gets into position. Draco presses around Harry’s entrance, and Harry’s expression twists a bit as Draco’s finger enters him. It’s not a bad feeling, he thinks, in fact— it’s odd, like the feeling should simultaneously be frowned upon and absolutely loved. He leans towards absolutely loved, especially as Draco begins to pump his finger more, hitting all the right spots.

 

“Shit,  _ there, _ ” Harry sputters, holding his hand over his mouth to stifle as many of his moans as he can. Draco’s found his prostate, and he hits it a few more times before pulling out completely. Harry groans with frustration.

 

“Now, now,” Draco says, “you’re so  _ needy _ . Do you want me that bad?” He bites his lip in anticipation. Harry  _ knows  _ he's doing this to turn him on even more.

 

“Fuck yes,” Harry begins, “Draco, I want you so badly.” 

 

Draco’s grinning from ear to ear (which is the most wonderful sight) as he rolls the condom on his cock and pours some more lube into his hand, slicking himself up. 

 

“I want to be able to see you, Draco,” Harry whispers, and pink tints Draco’s cheeks. 

 

Harry lies down on his back, lifting his legs up, and Draco presses himself between his thighs, making Harry squirm. Draco presses his tip into Harry, slowly pushing more of himself inside. Harry groans, nodding and running his hands along Draco’s neck and chest. Draco begins to move once he’s fully inside Harry, and as he begins to thrust, Harry lets out more moans and sharp breaths than before.

 

“You’re beautiful,” Draco says, his face now flushed completely red. Happiness wells up inside of Harry, and he pulls Draco in for a deep kiss. They moan into each other’s mouths as Draco pumps faster and harder, and at this rate, Harry will come within the next minute, and Draco hasn’t even hit right on Harry’s prostate. 

 

“Are you close?” Harry asks, and Draco nods. “Well, don’t do anything until you hit my prostate, okay?” 

 

Draco jerks his hips a few times, and by the fourth time, Harry nearly screams from how amazing he feels. His head falls back as he sputters a few “right there, Draco”s and “God, you’re amazing at this’ as Draco keeps going, pushing him to his breaking point. Harry comes with Draco’s name on his lips, and soon after, Draco pulls out and jerks himself until he comes, panting Harry’s name. They lay down next to one another, shaking their heads in awe and smiling from the messes they’ve made of themselves and each other. 

 

“I’m mad for you, Draco,” Harry says, before he can stop himself. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

 

Draco shuffles closer, pressing up against Harry. “Thank god, you idiot.” He presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek before asking, “Does that mean we can do this again?”

 

“I sure hope so,” Harry responds, “because that was fucking incredible. You’re amazing.”

 

Draco shakes his head, grinning. “I could listen to you making the sounds you made all day. You’re stupidly attractive, Harry.”

 

“Y’know, I’m really liking this first-name basis thing. Yeah.” Harry slides his hand into Draco’s hair, combing it with his fingers. He smiles to himself, and to Draco. Life is fucking good.

**Author's Note:**

> well yeah there you go


End file.
